


not letting what we built up crumble to dust

by jule1122



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alex Manes Loves Michael Guerin, Angst and Fluff, Communication, Established Relationship, Future Fic, M/M, Mention of Child Abuse, Michael Guerin Loves Alex Manes, Michael Guerin Week 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:02:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26544151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jule1122/pseuds/jule1122
Summary: Michael fell in love with Alex when he was seventeen.  Now that they are finally together he learns to love Alex all over again.
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 48
Kudos: 204





	not letting what we built up crumble to dust

**Author's Note:**

> Loose interpretation of Michael Guerin Week 2020 Day 3 prompt "I don't want you to go."
> 
> Title from the Depeche Mode song "A Question of Lust"

Being with Alex isn’t what Michael expected. He knows he was naive, but a part of him thought it would feel like it did in the beginning, when just being with Alex was enough to make him forget everything else, when he could distract Alex with kisses and ridiculous pick-up lines. And there are still times when Alex looks at him with so much love the world falls away, times when he knows Alex can’t think about anything but how good Michael makes him feel.

But he’s learning that starting over doesn’t mean forgetting the past. He and Alex aren’t kids anymore, they’ve lived a decade of life that hasn’t treated either of them kindly since the last time they were together. Years they should have spent learning to love each other, taught them to protect their hearts instead of sharing them, even at the expense of each other. 

It’s something they talked about when they got back together. A surprisingly mature conversation considering just hours before when Alex had taken the brunt of a failed attempt to capture Mr. Jones, Michael had screamed at him that he loved him and he wasn’t allowed to die before they had a chance to make things work. They both agreed their relationship wouldn’t last unless they forgave each other for the past and stopped focusing on the mistakes they had made.

Alex takes to it easier than Michael does. No matter how many times Michael has witnessed Alex’s faith that people can change and be better, it still baffles him. He doesn’t resent Alex for it anymore, has come to understand that Alex needs to believe the future will be better than his past. It’s when he can’t see what’s coming, when the future he built in his mind is changed, that Alex panics.

But Michael has always held his grudges and pain close to his heart. They fuel his determination to prove everyone wrong, but also keep him rooted in the past, waiting for his miserable history to repeat itself. Anger might have pushed him to save Max, but it won’t help his relationship with Alex.

They fight one day, a pointless argument Michael can’t remember the reason for. But what he does remember is how much he wanted to yell at Alex to just leave like he always did when things got hard, how difficult it was to hold back those words. He opens his mouth two or three times, but doesn’t shout the accusations that sit on the tip of his tongue, the ones designed to push Alex away. Instead he shakes his head and stares at the ceiling, let’s Alex pace silently without comment. He waits to speak until he’s no longer seething, until he can tell Alex is back with him in the present and not ten steps ahead into some depressing future. It’s not perfect, but it’s something.

Later, when they’ve both apologized and soothed the last of the tension away with gentle kisses, Alex thanks him.

“For what?” Michael asks, confused. “We still have all our clothes on, you’ll have a lot more to thank me for later.”

Alex laughs and shakes his head. “For what you didn’t say. I know it’s hard for you to trust me to stay, but you could have reminded me that I usually run when we fight, but you didn’t. It helped.” 

Michael knows he’s staring, but he can’t think of a thing to say. “Alex, no, just,” he tries, but the words won’t come. He doesn’t want Alex to feel like Michael is still just waiting for him to screw up again, like he’s on some kind of fucked up probation. He can’t tell Alex he’s wrong, but that’s Michael’s issue to work through just like Alex has to choose to stay even when it’s uncomfortable for him. Alex shouldn’t be thanking Michael for not throwing the past in his face.

“Hey,” Alex runs a hand down Michael’s arm, getting his attention and pulling him out of his head. “It’s ok to still have doubts. I don’t, can’t, expect you to forget all the times I haven’t stayed. Forgiving each other doesn't make all the pain go away. We’re getting there, so just thank you for believing in me.”

Michael still doesn’t know how to respond. He hadn’t realized how much pressure he puts on himself to erase or ignore the hard parts of their past. Alex’s reassurances remind him they don’t have to be perfect to make up for their mistakes. He’s been holding on to a fear that wouldn’t be able to break the endless push and pull they lived with, but today Alex stayed and Michael didn’t try to make him go. It’s harder than he’d like to admit to let hope erase the last of his doubts, and he ends up burying his face in Alex’s neck and crying a little. 

Living with Alex is great until it isn’t. One day, for no reason Michael can determine, Alex starts treating him like a guest. If Michael tells him he’s going to make dinner, Alex picks up take out on his way home. Any small chore he starts, Alex takes over, urging him to relax. He starts getting up earlier every day to make sure there is coffee ready for Michael. It would be sweet if it wasn’t clear Alex is going out of his way to make sure Michael doesn’t do anything around the house.

When Michael gets out of the shower and finds Alex in the garage scrubbing Michael’s boots in the utility tub, he snaps, “Alex, what the hell?”

“Just trying to save you some time,” Alex says like it’s a perfectly normal thing to do. Michael can’t even remember the last time he cleaned his work boots.

“Do you want me to move out?” 

“What? No,” startled, Alex turns to face him. “I asked you to move in. I want us to live together.”

“Then let me live here. It was great in the beginning, but now it’s like living in a hotel. Every time I try to do something, you stop me, jump in and do it instead. I’m starting to feel like a one night stand that overstayed their welcome. I can’t tell if I’m making you uncomfortable, or if I did something wrong.” Michael looks down, afraid of what he’ll see on Alex’s face.

“I want you here,” Alex says again. “This is your home now, too. Please don’t ever think I want you to leave. I just wanted you to know that I just want you, exactly as you are, you don’t need to do anything or change at all for me. I didn’ know how else to show you that.”

“I don’t understand,” Michael looks up now. Alex seems completely sincere, but Michael has no idea what he is talking about.

“I found your application, the one for the online classes.”

“Look, I was going to tell you once it was all set up,” Michael knows Alex doesn’t like surprises, but he didn’t think he would be upset about Michael working on his degree. “I thought you would be happy.”

Michael watches his face fall and becomes even more confused. “Alex,” he prods.

“I am happy, or I would be if I knew you were doing it for you.”

“Who else would I be doing it for?” Michael throws his hands up in the air, Alex’s agitation rubbing off on him.

“I saw the date on the application. It was the day after,” Alex trails off.

“After what?” Michael racks his brain trying to figure out what Alex is talking about. The registration reminder popped up in his inbox just like it did every semester. He just didn’t delete it this time.

“We were at the Wild Pony, and the security officer from the base came over to talk to me. I let go of your hand, and you left the table. You didn’t come back until he was gone and wanted to leave. I promised I would never let you think I was ashamed of you again, but I did.”

“I just left to give you some privacy in case you needed to talk about work.” Michael remembers the night now. When he’d come back to the table, he’d taken in the pinched expression on Alex’s face and suggested they call it a night. He thought Alex was annoyed at something the guy said, but now he can see how Alex misunderstood.

“If you’d stayed,” Alex looks away then turns back to meet Michael’s eyes, misery etched on his face. “If you’d stayed, I don’t know how I would have introduced you.”

“Alex,” Michael sighs, hating that Alex had been feeling guilty over something that Michael didn’t even notice. It’s another reminder that the only person Alex can’t forgive is himself. “You don’t need to tell everyone you know about me. If you’d pulled away from me in front of Greg, I’m not going to lie, that would hurt. But people you work with don’t matter to me. I know the military still isn’t the most progressive place, so if you don’t want anyone to know about us, or more importantly, you, that’s your call. If we’re somewhere unfamiliar, and you’re not comfortable holding my hand, just let me know. What matters to me is how you feel about us, that you want our friends and family to know about us.”

“I love you, and I’m proud of you no matter what you decide to do. I hope you know that.” Alex takes a half step forward, but doesn’t reach out.

Michael takes pity on him and closes the distance between them. He reaches around Alex to turn off the water before taking his hands. “So you’re not going to freak out if I take a few classes?”

“No,” Alex finally relaxes.

“You won’t try and do my homework for me?” He waits for Alex to shake his head before continuing to tease him. “You’ll let me make dinner and do my own laundry?”

“I guess I can do that,” Alex smiles before giving Michael a quick kiss. 

“You know if you really want to make it up to me, you could fuck on the pool table the next time we go out for a drink. Make sure everyone knows how you feel about me,” Michael rocks back on his heels, proud of the startled laugh he gets from Alex.

“Maria would kill us both, but I could always blow you in the bathroom.”

“Anytime, baby,” Michael winks at him. “But seriously Alex, just talk to me next time. I don’t want you torturing yourself over nothing.”

“I’ll try.”

Michael knows that’s the most he can ask for. “Ok,” he agrees easily, but when Alex starts to go back to the house, Michael catches his hand to stop him.

“Hey, you are the reason I’m going back to school, but not the way you thought. I’ve looked at classes every semester since graduation, but I never did more than look. I knew I didn’t have the money or time or support to make it work, but I couldn’t bring myself to stop the emails. After a while, it became another reminder of what a failure I was. But because of the life we’ve built together, I have support and stability, and I can do more than look. So if you’re going to take responsibility for something, let it be that.”

Alex stands frozen for a moment before pulling Michael into his arms. He doesn’t say anything, just holds Michael close and breathes.

Alex’s nightmares suck, there’s nothing else Michael can say about them. Once they start spending the night together, Alex does his best to prepare him. He explains that Michael shouldn’t touch him until Alex gives permission, that he can’t try and force him out of the nightmare. It goes against all Michael’s instincts, he wants to shout at Alex to get his attention, grab him by the shoulders and bring him back to the present, hold him close and tell him he’s okay. 

But now he waits, speaks in a low, even voice, calming, repetitive words he knows Alex doesn’t process until the moment Alex’s eyes close and reopen free of the wild terror that woke him. On nights when the wait for Alex to come back stretches out, he thinks about calling Isobel and begging her to go into his mind, to take out whatever haunts him. But he doesn’t. Instead he waits for Alex to slide his hand across the bed, signaling Michael that it’s okay to touch him. Even then, Michael doesn't crowd him, just takes his hand and moves closer, resting his head on Alex’s shoulder.

Sometimes, rarely, Alex will tell him about his nightmare. Other nights he’ll write it down in a journal he keeps by the bed. But most nights, he lays back down, pulling Michael with him. He lets Michael trace the shape of his face and stroke his hair until he falls back asleep. Lets the rhythm of Michael’s mindless reassurances, still spoken in a low, even tone, wash over him. Michael learns to let it be enough.

He’s grateful Alex’s nightmares aren’t that frequent, but he doesn’t understand why until he moves in. That’s when he realizes Alex never sleeps all night. They go to bed together, and most mornings they wake up together, but Michael discovers at least once a night, sometimes more, Alex wakes up and leaves the bed. When he asks, Alex tells him he’s become a light enough sleeper that he usually wakes himself up before the nightmares come.

The first few months he lives with Alex, Michael gets up when he finds Alex’s side of the bed empty. He tracks Alex down and coaxes him back to bed. It’s not long before Alex asks him to stop. He knows the rhythm of his nights, he tells Michael. He knows when he’s ready to sleep or at least rest again. Trying to force it never works, but if Michael asks, he’ll follow him back to the bed and stare at the ceiling rather than let Michael lose sleep with him. 

So Michael takes it as another lesson in patience and learns to sleep through Alex’s comings and goings. On the nights he can’t ignore Alex’s absence, Michael joins Alex with no expectation of going back to bed. Most often he finds Alex on the couch. He curls up next to him when Alex lifts the edge of the blanket in welcome and shares his lukewarm tea. They sit in silence, and sometimes Michael drifts off with his head in Alex’s lap while Alex combs his hands through Michael’s hair. Eventually Alex will nudge Michael with his crutch and lead him back to the bedroom. Michael never minds the missed sleep.

Less frequently, Michael wakes to music. Instead of resting on the couch, Alex sits at the keyboard playing the same few bars over and over again. Even after hearing it several times, Michael still doesn’t recognize it.

“It’s something my mother used to play,” Alex tells him when he eventually asks. “I don’t know if it's a real song or something she made up.”

Alex never mentions his mother, and Michael knows this isn’t the time to ask so he comments on the song instead. “It’s beautiful.”

“I can’t get it right,” Alex makes a face. “It sounds better on a piano.”

“Is that how she played it?”

“Yeah, she played all the time, and I used to sit with her at the piano, trying to copy her. She would show me the right keys, and later she taught me how to read music so I could follow along,” Alex smiles briefly before his expression darkens. He takes his hands off the keyboard and wraps them around himself. “The day she left, my dad,” he stops and licks his lips, sighs, “my dad dragged the piano out in the backyard. He destroyed it with a sledgehammer,” they both wince. “Then he set it on fire. I cried, tried to put out the fire. He was so angry. It was the first time he broke my ribs.”

Michael freezes for a moment, ‘first time’ echoing through his brain on repeat. He feels sick remembering how young Alex was when his mother left. He wants to dig up Jesse’s grave and snap every bone that’s left in his miserable excuse for a body. Michael takes a breath and unclenches his fists, not wanting Alex to see how upset he is. He can do that, enact a pointless act of revenge on a dead man, or he can put that energy and purpose into reminding Alex that he is loved. When he thinks of it that way, it’s not even a choice, so he pushes his anger down and sits with Alex.

The first kiss is a whisper, barely a brush of his lips against Alex’s. When Alex doesn’t pull away, he kisses him again and again again, each kiss a little firmer. He waits until Alex opens up to him, until he unwinds his arms from around himself and wraps them around Michael instead. When Alex rests his forehead on his shoulder, Michael kisses the shell of his ear, the curve of his skull, anything he can reach until Alex turns and their mouths meet again. They kiss until Michael feels almost drunk from it. 

After he leads Alex back to the bedroom, he strokes his hands over every inch of Alex’s skin, follows with soft kisses, making sure there isn't a part of Alex that won’t have a memory of being touched with love. He gives Alex the gentlest blowjob he can stand then kisses away the tears that fall silently from Alex’s eyes. When Alex turns toward him, Michael tucks him against his side and does his best to surround him with his body. He runs his hands down his back and whispers, “I love you” over and over until Alex falls asleep, too exhausted to dream.

He finds it when he’s helping Isobel drop off the rest of Noah’s belongings for the church rummage sale. Shoved into the back corner of the basement is an old piano. It’s dusty, covered in cracked, peeling white paint, the keys are stained, but Michael looks at it and knows he can make something beautiful of it. 

The pastor looks at him like he’s crazy when he asks about it, tells him he can have it for free if he can get it out of the basement. That’s not a problem, but Michael calls Max for help so no one will question how he can get it up the stairs on his own.

“You still have that empty bay in your garage?” he asks Max once they load into the back of his truck.

“Yeah.”

“Good, see you there,” Michael pats Max on the back and drives off while Max is still staring at him.

“Explain to me again why this is here,” Max stands with arms crossed in front of the piano, where it sits on a tarp Michael laid in the middle of his garage floor.

“I’m going to fix it up for Alex so I don’t want him to see it until it’s done. I can’t take it home or to Sanders so here it is,” Michael spreads his arms out and smiles at Max.

“Do you even know how to restore a piano?”

“That’s what youtube is for. Don’t worry I got this.”

After a few weeks of research, Michael begins to wonder if he’s taken on a bigger project than he can handle. But he is either going to give up or figure out how to approach each step and get it done. Remembering the look on Alex’s face when he talked about his mother’s piano, he knows he has to see this through.

He tells Alex Max bought an old classic car he wants to restore for his parent’s anniversary present, and he’ll be helping him out on Saturday mornings. 

“Max wants to restore a car?” Alex asks in disbelief.

“Apparently it’s the same model as one his parents drove across the country on their honeymoon, and Max thought they could recreate the trip for their anniversary. Whole family’s obsessed with road trips.”

“Uh huh,” Alex still looked unconvinced.

“You know what a romantic Max is. Don’t worry I’ll be there to make sure the car is actually roadworthy before he gives it to them.”

“I have a feeling Max wil need a lot of help. Good luck,” Alex kisses him on the cheek before he goes.

Max comes into the garage when Michael’s about a third of the way through disassembling the piano. He looks at the pieces beginning to cover the tarp and asks, “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Michael glares at him before writing down and taking a picture of the next piece he removes. “I don’t know Max, it’s not like I’m following the steps of the many, many websites and tutorials on piano restoration I’ve memorized. I’m just winging it.”

“Just checking,” Max rolls his eyes before hoisting himself up on his barely used and frankly excessive tool cabinet.

Michael’s grateful for the Evans’ unfounded faith in Max’s mechanical abilities since the master tool set they bought him when he moved into the house means Michael doesn’t have to carry his own tools back and forth. He notices the stack of books Max sets down next to himself and laughs. “You brought a book with you?”

“This?” Max holds up what looks to be an actual textbook on car repair. “I figured I should study in case Alex asks me any questions about what I’m doing.”

“Alex isn’t going to ask you questions.” Michael realizes that all the books are about car repair and restoration. They also look like they were published in the seventies. “Where did you get those? Sanders’ basement?”

“Roswell still has a library, you know.” Max flips the book open to a random page. “What kind of car are we working on?”

Michael shakes his head. He thinks about teasing Max about being a bookworm, but it’s kind of sweet that he’s more invested in their cover story that he is, so instead he says, “You pick and let me know.”

Max joins him every Saturday, reading through his books while Michael starts on the mechanical parts of the piano. Working on the guts of the piano isn’t that much different than fixing a car. There’s something soothing about bringing the dull, neglected metal back to life. He quizzes Max on what he’s reading while he cleans the soundboard and the harp, tuning and tightening the strings as he goes. 

One week he finds a box sitting on the tool cabinet next to Max’s books. “That came for you,” Max nods toward the box.

Michael opens it and finds the new red felt he purchased along with a few fittings that need replaced. He picks up each piece and inspects it.

He looks up and finds Max watching him. “You’re really doing this.”

“If you ever want your garage back, I am.” Michael rolls his shoulders and reminds himself not to be defensive. “I’ve done crazier things.”

“Like build an alien pacemaker? Piano should be a piece of cake after that.”

“Now you’re starting to get it.” Michael sets the box aside and sits back down on the tarp to continue his repairs. “Tell me again what an exhaust manifold does,” he asks, laughing when Max groans.

Michael’s sweating his ass off, stripping the truly ridiculous number of paint layers off the piano while Max flips through a book on classic American cars. “You could help, you know.”

Max sets the book aside and looks at Michael carefully before asking, “Do you want me to?”

Michael bites back the sarcastic reply that comes to him and thinks about it. When he gives Alex the piano, does he really want anyone else to have a piece of restoring it? He wants to give something back to Alex, something he only knows was taken because Alex trusted him with the memory. It wouldn't be right to share that with anyone. “No,” he finally answers.

“That’s what I thought,” Max smiles and picks his book back up.

Isobel joins them sometimes. She’d taken a few pictures of the piano at the church and in the bed of Michael’s truck, and now she comes back every few weeks to ‘document the process.’ For Alex, she tells Michael, so he can see the evolution not just the final product. She also helps Michael pick out material to reupholster the bench, something that will go with the natural wood of the piano and the colors in their living room. But mostly, it’s just him and Max.

After months of work, Michael is finishing the repairs to the keys, one of the last steps before the piano is finished. Cleaning the keys had been a process in itself, there were several theories about the best way to do it, and Michael had finally settled on diluted vinegar. Now he just has a few chipped keys to deal with. It’s painstaking work, filing down the chipped part, applying and drying the polymer to the key with a toothpick before sanding and buffing it.

He’s just finished setting the polymer on the second key when Max sets his book down with a sigh.

“How did you and Alex do it?” he asks. “With everything that happened between you, how did you find a way to get over it?”

Michael looks up, taking it the wistful expression on Max’s face. “I thought you and Liz were doing good?”

“We are, mostly. It’s just hard sometimes, harder, I think, than either of us expected it to be. I thought once we forgave each other and decided to be together it would be easier.”

“Trust me, Max, nothing about Alex and I’s relationship is easy, never has been,” Michael laughs. He can’t believe Max is asking him for advice. “At some point you have to figure out if there is more love or hurt between you. And forgiveness isn’t enough if you both aren’t willing to stop doing the things that hurt each other. That’s the hardest part, and we never stop working on it.”

“How did you know there was enough love left to fight for?” 

“When Alex was kidnapped, I was so pissed.” He hears Max snort behind him. Over time he’s shared more about what he’d done to get Alex back, how desperate and focused he’d been. Michael picks up his file and starts working on repairing the next chip. Even years later, thinking about that time fills him with rage and helplessness. He needs the distraction of doing something with his hands. “They way his father and Flint talked about him, how they treated him because they thought he was weak, I couldn’t stand it. They couldn’t understand why he didn’t hate aliens like they did, couldn’t believe he could love me. Fighting against that made me remember why I fell in love with him in the first place, why I still loved him.”

“I’ve never had a problem remembering why I love Liz.”

“I know, but you’re not like me. I was always looking for the worst in people, even Alex, sometimes especially Alex.” He tries to think of a way to explain it that will make sense to Max. “It’s like that story about the two wolves inside of us, good and bad, light and dark, whatever. You have to decide which one to feed. I spent a lot of years feeding the dark wolf. The one that resented Alex for enlisting, that felt like he abandoned me. That wolf held onto the memory of every time Alex hurt me; it snarled and snapped and tried to draw blood if he got too close. I fed the wolf that called him Manes and made sure to remind him that he came from monsters.”

He takes a deep breath and sets his tools down before continuing. “Then I started feeding the other wolf. It was a mix at first, but over time, all my food went to the light wolf. That wolf remembers Alex shared his safe space with me when he had no reason to. That wolf saw all the pain Alex endured, the pain he tried to hide, and knew he was doing his best to not let it twist him into something bitter and cruel. It could see how hard he tried and knew not every decision he made was about me or trying to hurt me. I fed the wolf that looked at Alex and saw how kind he was, how he did everything he could for the people he cared about, how he always showed up for me even when I pushed him away. I fed the wolf that sees Alex’s belief in the goodness of people as a strength and trusts him when he says he loves me, and he’s not leaving. I feed that wolf every day, and I’ve never been happier.”

When he finally turns around, Michael finds Max looking at him with a mix of admiration and sadness. “Do you think we could do that with each other?” he asks Michael hesitantly. “Feed the light wolves between us?”

Michael looks at his brother, thinks of how he sits with him every week, learning about cars so he doesn’t ruin Alex’s surprise, and the answer is easy. “Yeah, we can do that.”

Even with Michael’s telekinesis, getting the piano into the living room is a bitch. Once it’s set up, he stares at it while he catches his breath. It looks so much better than he even imagined, the warmth of the wood fits perfectly with the rest of the furniture. All the metal accents gleam and the keys shine, and he knows it’s tuned perfectly. He can’t wait for Alex to see it.

Max stands next to him, smiling broadly. “Isobel says to be at the Pony by eight. She originally said six, but I told her if she didn’t want you to be late for your own engagement party, she needed to give the two of you more time to celebrate alone,” he says with a wink Michael could really have lived without seeing.

“I’m not proposing,” Michael says, not sure what Isobel or Max are thinking.

“Are you sure?” Max looks at the piano then back at Michael. “You rebuilt that piano to last a lifetime. You can’t tell me you don’t intend to spend every one of those years with Alex.”

When Michael doesn’t say anything, Max pulls him into a hug. “I’m proud of you Michael. What you’ve done here is one of the greatest acts of love I’ve ever seen. Alex is going to be blown away,” He pats Michael on the back then lets him go. “Anyway, I’ll see you tonight.”

Michael nods absently, still trying to process what Max said. He spent so much time focused on the details of restoring the piano, it had been a while since he thought about why he was doing it beyond wanting to make Alex happy. Maybe Max and Isoble understood his motivations better than he did.

Max pops back in, breaking Michael out of his thoughts. “Sanders found a 1970 Cutless he thinks will be a beauty with a little, while maybe a lot, of TLC. Since I have an empty garage bay, I thought it would be a good investment. He’s bringing it by later in the week.”

Michael shakes his head at the hopeful look on Max’s face. “I’ll see you Saturday.”

Once Max leaves for good, Michael finds himself pacing the living room, waiting for Alex to come home. When he sees Alex pull in, he decides to meet him outside rather than have Alex walk in without any warning.

Alex smiles when he sees Michael, kissing him softly, “Were you waiting for me?”

Michael nods, shifting so he is blocking the door. “Before you go inside, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“What?” Alex tries to look around Michael.

“Max wasn’t restoring a car. He might be now because he bought one off Sanders, but that’s not what he was doing.”

“So what was Max doing?” Alex looks puzzled but not worried.

“Nothing, mostly. He was studying cars in case you asked him any questions, but he didn’t need my help with anything. I was using his garage to work on a surprise for you. I finished it this morning; it’s in the living room.” Mchael steps aside so Alex can enter the house. He waits a minute to follow so Alex can take it in.

Alex circles the piano, looking up when Michael enters, eyes shining. “It’s gorgeous. Michael, you built this?”

“More like rebuilt or restored,” Michael shrugs trying to ignore the way his heartbeat speeds up as he watches the surprise, joy and awe flicker over Alex’s face.

“How?”

“Isobel has pictures, probably has a whole slideshow put together by now. She’ll be happy to show you.”

“Good,” Alex smiles. “It’s gorgeous,” he repeats.

Michael notices how he reaches out as he studies it, hand hovering near it before pulling back. “You can touch it Alex; it’s yours.” He can’t wait to show Alex every inch of it, to point out the details in the woodwork, the way the polished metal shines, but right now he really wants to hear Alex play. He pulls out the bench as Alex runs his hand along the top of the piano. “It’s tuned and ready to go. Play something for me.”

Alex sits at the bench and takes a deep breath. He ghosts his hands over the keys, goes through a few scales and then begins to play.

Michael immediately recognizes the few bars Alex always played on the keyboard. He can hear how different they do sound on the piano, full and rich, the music filling the room. This time Alex doesn’t stop, he keeps playing, eyes closed, expression as peaceful as Michael has ever seen it. 

“Marry me,” Michael blurts out before the last note has even completely faded away.

Alex’s eyes fly open. “You want to marry me?”

“More than anything,” Michael sits next to Alex on the piano bench. “Max and Isobel thought this was an engagement present. I didn’t realize it until today, but it is. I know it’s not a ring.”

Alex shakes his head and silences him with a kiss, “It’s better. You made this for me. You understood, maybe more than I did, how much I needed this. Nothing could mean more to me.”

“When I was working on it, I kept thinking that I wanted,” Michael pauses, trying to put his feelings into words. He wanted to give Alex back every bit of joy that had been taken from him, to replace every painful memory with one filled with love. He wanted to put that look of peace on Alex’s face every day. But he doesn’t know how to say that so he settles for, “I wanted to make you happy.”

“You do,” Alex rushes to assure him.

But Michael knows it’s more than that so he tries again. “You’ve given me a home and a family in a way I never imagined I could have. You make me feel loved and secure and understood. I know that I matter to you. I want to give that to you, too.”

“Michael,” Alex kisses him again. “I feel that too, every day, but I haven’t given anything to you. We are building this life together, sharing a life together, and that’s why I know it will last,” Alex reaches for Michael’s hand, intertwining their fingers.

“Is there a yes in there?” Michael asks, barely holding back tears.

“Yes, Michael I will marry you and spend the rest of my life loving you,” he captures Michael’s lips in a kiss that quickly turns from tender to passionate as Alex slides his hands into Michael’s hair, turning them until he’s practically sitting in Michael’s lap.

Michael pushes him back a little when he feels the edge of the piano pressed against his back. “I built this to last, but it’s not that sturdy.”

Alex’s laughs, a bright, joyous sound Michael does his best to memorize even as he helps him up. He sends a silent thank you for Max for the extra two hours as they make their way back to the bedroom. They have a lot to celebrate.


End file.
